


holding out

by seb



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Hate Sex, M/M, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, i forgot to add tags, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:13:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25029076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seb/pseuds/seb
Summary: idk how to summarize this bro it's hate porn and I made myself sad goodnight
Relationships: Kefka Palazzo/Sephiroth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	holding out

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Distant Echoes for making me a clownfucker and getting me into this ship. I can now also say I've posted the first fic in a tag. Not sure about saying I've proudly done it but I've done it!  
> This is also very short but listen I just needed it out of my system. I'm posting this at 12:42am so no one sees it sjnfakj

“ _ Ah _ .” Sephiroth groans, biting his fist. His other hand pulls at the pillowcase beneath his head, his silken hair strewn across it getting caught in the tangle of fingers. “Fuck,” he spits through bitten flesh, eyes squeezing shut. “Harder.”

“Bossy, bossy!” Kefka sing-songs, hunched over Sephiroth’s body as he fucks into him. He adjusts Sephiroth’s legs over his thighs and curls his claws into the sheets, sliding back home with more vigor than before. “I think you should learn to be a little—”

“Quiet,” Sephiroth demands, and Kefka’s lips form a tight, disobedient line. “Fuck me like you mean it or  _ leave _ .”

Kefka grumbles, sticking his chin up and pulling out slowly, casting a downward glance at the slick arousal seeping out of Sephiroth and onto his dick. He grins, bold and defiant. “Looks like you need it a lot more than I do.”

Sephiroth growls deep in his throat, reaching up to grab Kefka’s face, smearing the paint there. “Don’t act like you’ve gotten a good fuck in recently either,” he says, serious. “We’re both desperate— don’t fool yourself.”

Kefka grabs Sephiroth’s wrist, digging his claws into the delicate skin there hard enough to draw blood. “Don’t act like you know me now,  _ Sephy _ ,” he coos. “Just because you’re stuffed full of my cock doesn’t mean anything!”

“Then get out.”

The grip on his cheeks loosen, yet Kefka hesitates. He doesn’t move a muscle. Sephiroth’s face twists into a meddling smirk as he pinches Kefka’s chin. “That’s what I thought,” he hums. “Now get back to it.”

He lays back among the swathe of blankets and pillows, hands above his head as he looks up at the General, who huffs. There are no words on his tongue despite how hard he wishes there were, so he digs his claws into Sephiroth’s thighs and hauls him back onto his dick. The slide is smooth and warm and Sephiroth hates how much he loves the feel of it. 

Decidedly time for a change of pace, Kefka pushes Sephiroth’s thighs back, bending him near in half and leaning over his body. Sweat drips from his chin as he fucks in again, buried in Sephiroth’s heat. 

“Just like that,” Sephiroth says, encouraging. He caresses the hands on the backs of his thighs lightly. “Don’t play nice. We both know what we’re here for.”

_ Indeed _ . Kefka loses all semblance of formality and fucks him recklessly, then, without abandon. Sephiroth clenches tight around him, gasping and moaning beneath his strong hands, reaching down to tug at his own cock throbbing painfully between his legs. 

Before long, Sephiroth is coming, grabbing desperately at Kefka’s arm. It bends, forcing Kefka closer as Sephiroth stutters on his breaths, face and chest flushed prettily. The sight brings Kefka to completion as well, so startlingly ripped from his groin he doesn’t have the attention needed to silence the call of Sephiroth’s name. 

It is fact, obviously so, that Kefka is not a cuddler. This is blatantly ignored as Sephiroth pulls him into his chest, breathing hard as he comes down. Kefka muffles something disgruntled into his skin, wiggling his hips until he’s pulling out and knocking Sephiroth’s legs back into place. 

“Stay,” Sephiroth says. He sounds like he’s pleading. Kefka doesn’t prod at it. “Until I fall asleep.”

Kefka falls to his shoulder beside Sephiroth, who turns to face him. Sephiroth’s hand comes to pet his cheek gingerly, like he’ll run away from the attention. The paint on his fingers doesn’t bother him— though it will in the morning when Sephiroth finds it all over his pillows. 

“Kefka?” Sephiroth says. It’s a rare sound. Kefka hums. “When I die,” he starts, hand going still. “Make it hurt. Am I clear?”

Kefka blinks, taken aback. “Clear as day.”

Sephiroth nods, pleased, and closes his eyes, hand still resting on the other’s cheek. 

Kefka is gone within minutes. 


End file.
